A Different Kind of Fate
by Charlotte Parkinson
Summary: What happens when Harry gets a message from his mother from beyond the grave that things didn't go the way they were supposed to? Eventual pairing.
1. Ch1  A Revelation

"No! Harry!"

The boy who died and came back to life woke with a start in his bed. He was drenched in sweat. It had been years since he'd had that dream, and yet every day in the past week he had been woken from the screams of his mother the night she died.

"Harry?" There was a sound from the fireplace, like embers crackling his name. Harry lifted his head and looked at the end of the bed, into the fireplace, and relief swept over his body when he saw his wife's face. The fire looked as though it belonged on her head, blending in quite nicely with her own head of fiery red hair.

"Ginny, how long have you been-"

"Only long enough to hear you moaning in your sleep." She said, her voice had an edge to it. "Can I come through?"

"Of course." Ginny's face disappeared. Harry threw the blanket off of his body and strode over to the fireplace, giving his wife enough room to floo through. A moment later, Ginny's entire body swept through the fire and into Harry's room at the Green Ghoul Inn.

Without a word, the couple caught each other in a warm embrace. "I hate being away from you for so long." Harry whispered in her ear, caressing the back of her head. He pulled away long enough to look into her eyes, before swooping down to catch her lips in his.

After a long, steamy kiss, the couple pulled apart, making their way to the bed.

"How long do you have?" Harry pulled her close, as she pushed him onto the bed. The duvet was scratchy and the mattress was bumpy. It wasn't home at all.

"Not long, Ron and Hermione are over to see the children get to bed. James has been talking in his sleep, Lily's excited for her first day of school in a week. You'll be there to see her off, won't you?" Ginny bit his lip and tugged.

"Mmph," Harry replied, his voice muffled against her lips. He nodded and clasped his hand around her neck. They held each other, desperate to make the short time they had together last.

"Harry, you're shaking." Ginny managed to say through their fierce little kisses. It was true. Harry's body was vibrating against Ginny's and, had she not known for a fact that he had never been bitten, she would've suspected that he were about to transform into a werewolf.

Harry bowed his head into the crook of Ginny's neck. He sighed deeply before rolling off of her and staring up at the ceiling of the inn he took residence in when work poured into his personal life.

"What is it, love?" Ginny asked, rolling onto her side to stare intently at her husband. He rolled onto his side and looked into her bright brown eyes, knowing he couldn't lie to her. Hell, she probably had some insight into what was troubling his mind.

"I can't seem to help but have this feeling that... something went wrong. Something isn't what it should be." He pulled his wife closer to his body as though afraid she would slip from his presence. "I keep having dreams... nightmares."

"Of the battle?" Ginny asked softly. Harry knew she was still haunted by the horrible events that happened those many years ago. He shook his head and knitted his brows, frustrated.

"It's my mother. I can still hear her screams in my head." Ginny stared at Harry, disconcerted. "But it's different now. I can't explain it. It's too mad to understand myself."

"Nothing's mad, Harry... Unless you count Hermione trying to cook us a proper Christmas dinner. As much as she insists she's a natural, you know as well as I do Mum's enchanted the dishware to do the work for her." Harry chuckled lightly and nodded, before his mind became distant once again. "Tell me, Harry."

Harry looked up at her with the most fierce, scared look in his eyes. "I think she's trying to tell me something."


	2. Ch2  Passing isn't always fancy

Chapter 2:

The weather outside of the manor looked dreadful. Snow was falling in heaps, it seemed and Scorpius wrinkled his nose in disgust. He hated the cold and wet weather. He would much prefered being in California of the Americas than in dreary England. Little did he know, the Californians were suffering almost as much as he was. Little wizards and witches were being refused the swimwear by their parents, because it was simply too cold. It was as though summer took a vacation this year, and the children watched from inside their homes as the clouds rolled through day after day.

In under a week, Scorpius would return to Hogwarts for his third year of school. He wasn't much for studying, but he loved magic, namely the Inscendio charm. He missed the boarding school greatly. He pressed his palm flat against the cold window.

"Scorpius, your father wishes to speak to you." The 13-year-old turned around in his chair and sighed, knowing full well that his father, Draco Malfoy, intended to lecture him once more about the importance of networking while at school. Unfortunately, Scorpius just wasn't the social butterfly that his father was. He didn't see why he needed people when he had magic to do everything for him.

"I'll be right down, Rudolpho." The servant bowed his head and took his leave. Scorpius clambered down from his seat in the high windowsill and walked to the doorway exiting the library. He took one glance back before sighing and bidding the place farewell. It had become a place a he frequented, not to read, but to be alone where his mother and father wouldn't interrupt him.

"Son," Draco's voice carried from down the hall. Scorpius stiffened. He loved his father and he knew he loved him, but he could get real annoying with the way he talked to Scorpius. "Come in." He motioned inside his office, where he took care of the many businesses they owned. Scorpius took the seat across from the desk and slumped down in it, knowing his father hated when he did so. Draco's jaw stiffened and relaxed within miliseconds. "Son, there's something we need to discuss."

"My future among wizards? We covered that one yesterday." Scorpius retorted snidely. Draco slammed his fist onto the table, making him nearly jump out of his skin. His father had never lost his temper unless their family had been threatened.

"No, you twit. You've got a right mouth on you and neither your mother nor I can explain where it's come from." Scorpius bored his eyes into his father's. "We're sending you away until you can learn how to appreciate what we've given you." The young teen scoffed in disbelief. "You think I'm being funny? Your mother and I work hard to put food on the table-"

"I'm certain, that's what the servants do, Father." The slick-haired boy smirked at Draco.

"You're the most ungrateful little ingrate I've ever laid eyes on." His voice wavered as he stood up from his seat, slowly.

"I don't have to do anything you say. I'm a wizard. I can do anything I want!" The brat stormed out of his father's office in a huff. Draco fell to his seat, not having the energy to discipline the boy any further. He rested his head in his hands.

"He reminds me of you, you know." Draco looked up and knitted his brow.

"I would never have spoken to my father like that." Astoria walked into her husband's office, swaying her hips along the way, before sitting at the edge of his desk and resting a hand on her tired husband's face.

"No, but you had quite a mouth on you, didn't you? Always acting out towards the servants-"

"Darling, I don't understand." Draco rested his cheek into his wife's hand. "He treats the help better than he does me."

"He's just a boy, my love. A teenage boy who has a lot of pressure on his shoulder being a Malfoy."

As the couple spoke, Scorpius was in his room packing a small duffle of clothes. He opened a small cabinet and took out a small box before carefully storing it in one of his front pockets. He ignored the knock on his door.

"Master Scorpius, your father is not permitting you out of the-"

"Don't care Rudolpho. I've had enough of the shenanigans around here. I don't want to be a Malfoy anymore. I'm running away. I'll manage to get to Hogwarts and continue my education, but I'm not living in this stuffy manor anymore. It's made for pigs." He looked around in disgust, before turning back to his things, hastily checking that he had everything.

"What am I to tell-"

"Nothing. You don't know anything, after all." Scorpius shrugged. Rudolpho knew full well that the little Master meant he didn't know anything about Scorpius's plans or that he planned to escape the manor, but it still stung, nonetheless.

"Shall I erase my memory, sir?" The servant asked, biting back what could have been a very snide remark. Scorpius shook his head and walked to the far wall before gazing out the window, a hint of fear in his eyes.

"That's not necessary." He said before bounding toward the window, closing his eyes halfway and covering his face with one arm while shoving his other in his front pocket. As soon as his body met glass, there was a deafening shatter. He fell through the air, gracefully turning and diving downward. He pulled the box out and squeezed it tight in his hand. In a split second a broomstick grew seemingly from nowhere and he straddled it right before he hit the ground, swooping up and soaring through the air.

Scorpius leaned back on the broom and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of wind through his hair, despite the fact that it would completely mess up his style. It seemed as though he were only flying for a second when he felt a smash of his broom against a solid object. His eyes swung open a second after he felt the impact, but there was nothing there.

"Watch it, stupid boy!" An arrogant voice said. Before Scorpius could retort, he felt his grip slip and in a flash, he was tumbling through the air, headed towards the bushes. _Good,_ he thought, _at least there's something to break the fall._

"Foolish child!" A voice said, upon Scorpius's impact on the bush. He opened his eyes and looked around, but still there was nothing.

"Where are you?" Scorpius called out into the night.

"Where do you think? Oh, that's right, you don't think." The disembodied voice became agitated with each passing second. "If I was capable of aging, I'd say I was getting too old for this."

Scorpius frowned and looked up at the sky, ready to fight the invisible man, if that's what he was. "Why don't you show yourself and face me instead of being a-"

"I don't have time for this, insolent boy. Repeat after me."

"I'll do no such thing."

"Don't argue with me!" The sky seemed to rumble along with the demanding, angry voice. "_Impendo corpus, Penetro animus_." Scorpius hesitated. "Oh, now you take time to think? We don't have time for this, boy!" The boy shook his head and afraid to upset the impatient voice, repeated the words he recited.

It felt as though his chest was being torn open. He screamed in agony before falling to the ground clutching his chest. He barely heard the voice cry out, for his own cries drowned out anything within a five mile radius of him. As though the feeling of his chest being wrenched open weren't enough, it felt as though something were being forced through his chest.

"Make. It. Stop!" Scorpius begged. "Please, make it stop!" The pressure increased tenfold, then a hundredfold before it became too much and darkness seemed to envelope the boy entirely. He blacked out, only remembering the cold, wet of the snowy night.


End file.
